15. Diana

15

DIANA

I rush out of Lazaro's room, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. My heart races as the image of Lana's piercing disapproving gaze burns into my mind. I can't believe she caught us like that. Of course, I knew it was a possibility. Especially since she’s hypersensitive in her concern about Lazaro. But I’d wanted to be with Lazaro so much that I believed I could get away with a secret tryst in his room. Wrong.

Not that I regret it. Yes, I’m embarrassed. Yes, I might be fired. But being with Lazaro yesterday and last night was like taking a trip to Nirvana. Not just physically, although that was blissful. Alone with him, it’s like we’re in our own bubble. We can both be ourselves. The weight of the world is a distant concern.

Even better, with him I feel tethered to the world in a way I never have. My foster families provided shelter and food, but never a sense of permanency or connection. And while I know there is no permanency with Lazaro, I do feel a connection to him. It makes me feel seen and valued. Surely, no one would blame me for wanting to experience that as much as possible since it could be the only time I ever feel it. Eventually, Lazaro will move on. Perhaps his memory will return and with it his old persona, one that is wild and violent. Or maybe he’ll just sow his oats and this white-hot burn will fizzle out. Whichever it is, there’s no doubt that eventually, I’ll be moving on again. And when I do, the incident when Lazaro snuck one of the cooks into his room will become a faded memory. Knowing that I’ll be forgotten lessens my embarrassment only slightly.

Once in the kitchen, I’m relieved to be there first. In the empty quietness, I grab a glass of water and take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then I get busy with breakfast, acting normal as Anna arrives and a half hour later, Maria and Janey show up.

To my relief, no one seems to notice my distress. I busy myself with meal prep as I attempt to shake off the feelings of embarrassment swirling inside me. Is Lana going to say something to Anna? Is she going to fire me? What will Lazaro do if she does? I push away the hope that he’d come after me. Sure, we have an intense connection, but it’s more physical than anything. Plus, Lazaro has a lot going on reconnecting with his family and finding himself.

I close my eyes for a moment, willing my racing thoughts to slow. Grabbing a pan, I drop butter into it, getting ready to make French toast. The familiar motions of cooking help ground me. I can handle this. Whatever comes next, I'll face it head-on. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to endure drama or conflict. Each time, I usually deal with it by moving on.

I glance at the clock, wondering how long Lazaro and Lana will talk. Part of me hopes he'll come find me after, but I know that's selfish. He needs time with his family. Plus, I told him to stay away while I work because he's too distracting.

The breakfast is prepared and served without incident. When the breakfast clean up is nearly finished, I’m breathing easier. Anna hasn’t scolded me. Lana hasn’t blown in to fire me.

I pour a cup of coffee to take a short break before beginning meal prep for lunch and dinner. Maria and Janey are off doing household chores. Anna is in her little office, working on a grocery list. I have a moment to myself.

The kitchen door swings open with a bang. Lana strides in, her icy gaze locking on to me. My stomach drops. I've never felt intimidated by Lazaro, but Lana is a different story entirely.

She approaches me with purposeful steps. I straighten my spine, trying to project a confidence I don't feel. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait for her to speak.

"I want you to stay away from my brother," she says coldly. "Lazaro doesn't need your… seduction right now. He's in a vulnerable state, and I won't have you taking advantage of that."

Her words hit me like a slap. Seduction? Taking advantage? Anger flares in my chest, burning away some of the fear.

"With all due respect, Ms. D'Amato. I'm not seducing anyone. Lazaro and I?—”

"I don't care what you think you and Lazaro are," she cuts me off. "He's not himself. Whatever this is between you, it needs to end. Now."

I remind myself that she thinks she’s protecting him.

Before I can say anything, she continues. “I won’t have you manipulating him, taking advantage of him.”

My face flushes hot with indignation. How dare she suggest I'm manipulating Lazaro. "I understand you're concerned for your brother, but you've got this all wrong. Lazaro came to me. He sought me out. I would never take advantage of him."

Lana's eyes narrow, her lips curling into a sneer. "Oh, please. I know your history. A woman like you catches the eye of a rich, powerful man. Of course, you’re going to worm your way in.”

My jaw drops. “Are you accusing me of being a gold digger?”

“If the shoe fits.”

I’m hurt, embarrassed, and humiliated. But I’m also strong, probably to a fault. "I care about Lazaro. He enjoys my company?—”

She scoffs. “No doubt, he does.”

She’s talking about the sex, which only makes me feel dirtier. More disgraced.

“You're a distraction at best, a gold-digger at worst. My brother needs to focus on recovering his memories, not dallying with the kitchen help."

The dismissive way she refers to me as "kitchen help" stings, but I stand my ground. "I would never use him or try to manipulate him. That's not who I am."

"Who you are doesn’t matter. I've known him his entire life. You can't possibly understand what he needs right now. What he doesn’t need is someone distracting him from finding himself."

Her words hit me hard. Doubt creeps in, despite my best efforts to push it away. What if she's right? What if I’m a distraction to him? A distraction that keeps him from reconnecting with his family, from figuring out who he is? From regaining his memories.

But then I remember the concern in his voice telling me he wasn’t sure he wanted his memories back, wasn’t sure he wanted to be the man he’d been before.

Lana’s words sting, but I refuse to let her intimidation tactics work. "Ms. D'Amato, I understand your concern, but I’ve been a friend to him as he has to me. He’s been kind to me, helping me with my car.”

I see a flicker of surprise cross her face, but she quickly masks it.

"I know you want the old Lazaro back, but he’s not that man anymore. Don't you think he deserves to be accepted for who he is right now, rather than constantly pushed to be his past self?"

As the words leave my mouth, Lana's expression hardens. Her eyes narrow dangerously, and I realize I may have overstepped.

"You presume to tell me how to treat my own brother?" Lana's voice is low and threatening. "You think you know him better than his own family? You think because he fixes your car and fucks you that can talk to me like that?”

I swallow hard, suddenly very aware of the precarious position I'm in. Lana isn't just Lazaro's sister. She's also part of the family that owns this house, that signs my paychecks. The look on her face tells me I've crossed a line, and there might be consequences for my boldness.

A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead as I consider the implications. In my passion to defend Lazaro, I may have just talked myself out of a job. Worse, the look in Lana's eyes tells me this could go beyond mere unemployment. The D’Amatos are a powerful Mafia family. She could make me disappear and no one would notice or care.

I’d notice.

Lazaro’s words come back to me, and I want to believe that his feelings for me could save me. But I also know that this thing between us isn’t anything more than two lost souls connecting for a brief moment in time.

My mouth goes dry as I wait for Lana's response. The silence stretches between us, each second feeling like an eternity. I want to say something, to apologize, to backtrack, but my voice has abandoned me.

Lana's eyes bore into mine, cold and calculating. Is she planning to fire me or kill me?